Survival

Chapter 44 Homeowner

Gunnar rose out of bed as the sunlight trickled through a stubborn crack or two in the boarded-up window. He pulled the loose plank of wood back and took stock of the yard. A fallen tree had managed to avoid damaging his water collection project by five feet this time. Firewood and water instead of repairs and cursing. Something good was looking out for him now.

About damn time.

As much as he missed his family and Mischa, Gunnar felt at peace on this patch of land, a feeling he had only known once before. When he was eight years old, his grandmother had taken him and Aida up to Sante Fe.

Before they left, his mom had argued, screamed and cried as her children prepped to leave the house. Back when she actually gave a shit. For a moment, he had thought they might actually be leaving to live with their mormor. Maybe to a place that didn't look like a tornado blew through on a daily basis. His grandmother had been quick to correct him.

"My sweet Gunnar," she had said in her choppy Swedish accent, "I only have a week with you. Then you are back with your mother. But a great week it will be."

His mother had grabbed a brown bottle off the counter and retreated into her bedroom while they began their adventure with mormor.

The last morning of their trip, his grandmother had woken them up before the moon disappeared. Gunnar threw on his over-sized shirt for the fifth straight day much to mormor's protest. It had still smelled new like the store if he focused close enough. He hadn't believed he'd be lucky enough to get anything but goodwill or hand-me-downs. 

They had driven over an hour into a big valley where a river rushed far below. The three of them had sat on the hood of the well-used car, "as old as mormor", he and Aida joked. The sun slowly rose over the horizon, lighting up a big, metal bridge and the mountains in the distance with pinks and oranges. The only cries had come from birds flying overhead. Hardly another soul to spot.

He hadn't seen real mountains before and his jaw dropped at their jagged peaks and impressive size. He couldn't believe something so big a beautiful could exist so close to home. He bet there were no sirens, gun shots and angry voices to ignore all night up there. Just air, sun, and peace. Aida had fallen asleep on mormor's shoulder and missed the whole thing. She had been still too young to understand.

"Gunnar, you're going to have to be strong for your family. Your sister will need a brother to protect her from the dangers you may already know."

Gunnar had nodded. His mother was never thinking clear enough to even get him a lunch for school every morning, assuming there was more than ketchup packets, soda and beer in the fridge. He couldn't expect her to protect him from strangers on the street who would call things out to her as they walked by. Things his teachers had forbidden him from ever repeating again when he wanted to know what they meant. It hadn't seemed fair just to be left with his mother.

Sighing heavily, Gunnar replaced the board on the window and suppressed his memories. He hadn't realized at the time that his grandmother had been quite sick. She passed away only a week later, and his mother's tears made much more sense. They didn't make much of an appearance after the funeral.

Hunter's paws clacked against the wood floor as he returned to the bedroom. The dog must have been antsy as he rarely rose before Gunnar. Must be time to get started on the post-storm clean up. A quick sift through the dresser confirmed he still had an extra shirt or two before he really needed to do laundry again. At first, these shirts make him feel like a skeleton, swallowing him whole twice over, but now they clung tighter to his chest and arms.

"Alright Hunter, I can let ya out, but don't ya go catching more rabbits now. I still gotta figure out how to make 'em last longer."

Hunter looked up with his jowls hanging loosely and a blank, fixed stare as if to refute the point.